


See You

by Judgement



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Demonic Possession, F/M, Reader-Insert, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judgement/pseuds/Judgement
Summary: They've chased you across the country, but you're at your wit's end. You won't be the anchor that keeps them from moving on with their lives, you refuse to be.[Implied Dean x Reader]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tousled_bird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tousled_bird/gifts).



It was like watching your life in snapshots, you weren’t sure when they had possessed you. How it even had happened, to begin with, or maybe you did and it was getting mixed up the more they controlled and kept you prisoner in your own body. It was sifting through madness, and torture, being possessed wasn’t just throwing you into the back of your mind. It was locking you there and torturing you there, chaining you down and carving themselves into the last pieces of yourself until you weren’t sure where you began and it ended. Did your conscious feel pain? Did your body process it? How did anything even work anymore?

You had seen horrible things happen, seen the blood-stained with your hands. Heard the mocking laughter echo when you pleaded them not to hurt anyone anymore, and listened to their laughter as they only prolonged the agony of those they tortured. So you fell silent, maybe that’s what it wanted in the end maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it wanted to break you and maybe it had succeeded. You didn’t know anymore, you just wanted it all to end, to stop being the puppet on a string, and to stop hurting people. Most of all you wanted to stop hurting others and watching as Dean and Sam did their best to try and save you and the demon possessing you knew it. They didn’t want to hurt your body because that meant if the demon left that would leave you hurt, and they couldn’t bear it. But you couldn’t bear their suffering anymore.

It burns like fire down your throat, your skin is on fire and you’re boiling from the inside out. A scream ripping through your throat when you’re suddenly brought to the forefront of your mind, of your own body. For the first time in months, or maybe it was years? You had control over yourself and everything hurt. Like an agonizing burn through your limbs and when the scream dies down you’re left heaving. Trembling hands and chattering teeth.

“[Name]?!”

Dean is there, concern on his face and the bottle of holy water in his hand.

“Are you with me?” His voice is rough and an edge of anger there.

“I’m here,” Your own voice sounds foreign, raspy and it hurts the back of your throat to talk. Wet strands of hair dipping into your line of sight as your head slumps forward, your body felt so heavy. Exhaustion slipping into the core of your being, and you wondered if your personal demon possessing you had ever let it sleep.

“Name, Name look at me.” His hands are calloused by so soft and warm against your cold and wet cheeks as he tilts your head up. Locking his gaze with yours and you manage a painful and tired smile.

“Hey Dean, long time no see.” You manage a quiet and strained laugh and Dean mimics it, tears gathering in his eyes as he brushes the wet strands of hair away from your face and tucks it gently behind your ear.

“Yeah, was starting to think you were avoiding me on purpose.” He’s still trying to laugh and you manage to for him. A soft chuckle past your lips, but the bands on your wrists and ankles feel tight, and it is a reminder that it’s still inside of you.

“Dean,” His thumbs are brushing against your cheeks as he kneels in front of you, searching your tired gaze. “It’s not going to leave.” The look on his face hardens, his lips purse and you know the anger is back. The pain of not being able to save you is clear on his face.

“No, we’re going to get it out of you.”

“Dean how long has it been?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

His hands pull from your face, and he’s up and pacing the room, running hands down his face. It pains you more to see him like this than the burning in your throat and through your entire body from the holy water.

“Dean,” You try again, swallowing hard because your throat is too dry. “How long has it been?”

He’s quiet, not looking at you and staring at the other end of the room. Tension in his shoulders and hands, he doesn’t want to tell you but you know he won’t keep it from you, either.

“It’s been two years.”

You hadn’t expected it to be that long, it only served to show how many gaps were in your memory. How much time you had lost, things you couldn’t get over and never would.

“Dean please.”

“I won’t kill you.”

Your stomach clenches because out of everyone Dean is the last person you want to have that kind of weight on his shoulders. That blood on his hands, he tried so hard to do everything he could but you were so incredibly tired, and you were sure there was no going back from this.

“I don’t want you to kill me,” You say slowly, watching him through lidded eyes as he turns around to stare at you. “I’m asking you to give me that opportunity.”

It’s like you’ve flipped a switch, his mouth drops agape and he freezes in place. Processing your request before his brows furrow and rage mars his face.

“No! I’m not letting you kill yourself. Out of the question, Sam is- Sam is looking for another way.”

“Dean, I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as much as you want when we get rid of this thing! We’re not losing you [Name].”

You shudder slightly, a sigh falling past your lips and you drop your head, suddenly too tired to keep it up, wrists tugging against the bands.

“Dean.. I can feel it, it’s,” It hurts to say it, to make what you had only imagined a reality, the nightmare brought forth to life. “It’s a part of me now.”

He’s horrified, you know he is because he’s silent and the sound of his footsteps have stopped.

“Don’t do this name, don’t give up.” It’s a broken plead and your shoulders shake with a laugh and there are tears dripping down your face.

“Please, I’m tired. It doesn’t leave me alone, it tortures me inside my own head. I have scars on my skin that no one can see because they’re not real. Not outside, but I feel them, I see them.” Your eyes are focused on the demonic symbols carved into your arm, but you know it’s not really there. You know it’s just from the demon torturing the conscious form you had in your mind, nothing was real, and maybe this wasn’t either.

“I don’t wanna keep hurting people, I don’t wanna keep doing this.”

He isn’t saying anything and so you take the chance to look at him and it breaks your heart. The pain on his face, the look of despair and tears gathered in his eyes because you know he’s thinking he’s failed you, like all the other things he piles on his shoulders as failures.

“You both have done enough,” You say slowly, each word is painful and aches against your chest. “You have fought and struggled, but I’m tired, Dean. I’m tired of being the anchor that holds you guys back.”

“You are not-”

“I’m tired of this thing inside of me, it’s sickening. I’m sick of myself, sick of what I’ve done.”

“That wasn’t you.”

“Please.” You beg, looking at him through the blur of tears. “Let me end it before it takes everything. My memories, my feelings, before it takes away what makes me, me. Let me go on my own terms.”

He’s straining against the thought, what was he going to tell Sam? He glances away, running a hand down his face and covering his mouth as the edges of his lips twitch into a frown as the tears unwillingly escape from him as well.

His movements are slow, but he of all people understood what you wanted. He couldn’t deny you this request because the truth was he wasn’t sure there was a way to save you anymore, everything they had tried was a failure. It had latched onto you somehow and ran you around in circles around them, driving them mad and killing you slowly.

The bands come off slowly, one by one. The material falling away from your wrists and you rub them carefully as he undoes the ones at your feet and carefully helps you up. The devil trap above you would keep you from following him outside the circle, but Dean doesn’t move. His hands holding yours as he keeps you steady when you stand to your feet, keeping the weight of exhaustion from overwhelming you and making you collapse.

To you it was just another reminder of what an anchor you had been to the two of them, how you clung to his form to keep you steady and how he rooted his feet to the ground, unmoving. You were preventing him from moving forward and that knowledge hurt more than any torture the demon could put you through.

“I’m sorry, Name.” His voice is quiet, wracked with emotion and he’s keeping you close, preventing you from looking at his face and you respect that enough to not struggle and look at him. Instead, you tighten your hands against his,

“For what? You guys gave me a home, you gave me a _family_ when I had none. I don’t regret a single moment.”

You hear the thick sound of him swallowing the lump in his throat and the sharp inhale and shudder of his body.

“We couldn’t save you.”

“Yes, yes you did.” You laugh quietly, feeling your own set of tears starting up again. Dripping onto his jacket. “You helped me find who I was, what I stood for. You gave me the world.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“I won’t hold the two of you back anymore.”

“You’re no-”

“Dean you’ve been chasing me for two years, counting the days. Pouring over text day after day, don’t think I don’t know how you guys beat yourselves up over this. I’m tired, and so are you two. Let me end this, let me go, let yourselves move on and heal. Let me have peace.”

His hands move from yours, wrapping tightly around and burying his face into your shoulder. His embrace keeps you upright and it hurts because it’s a goodbye and you both know it. When he pulls away you press a kiss on his cheek, and the gun is slid into your hands.

“Leave, Dean. Don’t come back.”

There’s the pain on his face, he wants to argue you but the look on your face prevents him from doing so. The decision is made, you’re going through with it and you won’t allow him to be there and see it, you won’t let him live with that kind of memory. So he steps back, bites his lip and there are more tears on his face.

“I’m sorry, Name.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Dean. Neither of you have to be sorry, I don’t regret anything. You both made me so incredibly happy.”

His lips are trembling, and he’s trying to send you off with a smile and you see how difficult it is. The devil's trap makes it impossible to go after him so you stand there with the gun in your hand, and watch as he takes one last look before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

You wait several heartbeats, the gun is heavy in your hands and you look down at it. Clicking off the safety and taking a shuddering breath as you bring the gun to your temple. You feel oddly at peace despite what you’re about to do, despite what you are leaving behind, and there’s the burning in your skin that reminds you of what’s inside of you.

“We’re going to go to hell, together. And I will make you suffer like you have made me suffer, and like you have made them suffer.”

You can feel it against the edge of your conscious, screaming to be free and stop you from what you’re about to do. But the smile on your face doesn’t leave, it would be an immense pleasure to drag this thing to hell.

“See you in hell.”

Click.

_Bang._


End file.
